


The Science of Selling Yourself Short

by voxane



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, past JJBella, past otayuri, post retirement fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxane/pseuds/voxane
Summary: “You don’t remember? I told you last night,”  Otabek swallowed and avoided JJ’s pleading eyes.“I kicked him out.”“Oh.”“Well,” JJ sat up slowly. “You said Yuri was at a hotel right? I can bring him stuff?--JJ, meet Yuri. It's been awhile. I guess things have changed a lot.





	1. Best Wishes to Your Black Lung

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glimmerystarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glimmerystarlight/gifts).



> For the pliroy exchange's fearless leader, icycoldmoonprincess!!!! 
> 
> She let me have run of the roost here, I feel like I'm the one who got the gift. I'm sorry it's not completely done, this story ran the HECK away with me. But it's completely outlined and I'm hoping for a weekly schedule. 
> 
> Don't worry, I'm good for it ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy these angsty beginnings, and thank you for making this wonderful event for everyone!

“Jean.” JJ pried his eyes open, and light burned everything white until shapes slowly came into focus. There was a beige ceiling fan spinning in lazy circles, and the rotations left his head scrambled and shoved his stomach up in his throat. His nausea must have shown on his face, as Otabek handed him a wastebasket to empty his guts in to. 

Why was Otabek here anyway?

Where was here? His living room didn’t have a ceiling fan. JJ’s jeans clung to him with a film of filth that told him that he had been wearing these far beyond just sleep. God he wished he could take them off. They smelled stale, and the myriad of places he’s been suddenly rushed to him all at once. He kind of wanted to hurl again.

“How...long have I been here?” He asked in a small voice, for the sake of his head and stomach. Otabek sat down next to him but stayed at arm's length.

“Not long, you got here midday yesterday. You were already tipsy in the airport,” Otabek’s eye contact was ruthless. JJ cringed. “You drank most of the night, and told me everything about Isabella.”

“Fuck.” JJ dragged his hands down his scrunched face. He had, in a drunken haze, almost forgotten about Isabella. He briefly wondered if he forgot to sign any papers before he decided to fuck off to Almaty. It didn’t matter. He’d hear about it if he had.

“I know you’re in a rough place, Jean.” Otabek’s tone was steady to the point of uncanny, like a doctor telling JJ his diagnosis. “But I can’t let you stay here. I’m not kicking you out today, but you need to look for somewhere else to stay. I’m sorry.” JJ’s entire form deflated, out of energy to pretend he wasn’t upset by the news. He scanned the room to escape Otabek’s gaze and landed on an impossibly small pair of leopard print briefs on the arm of the couch.

“I suppose your little tiger wouldn’t care for my company,” He murmured. “Where is Yuri, anyway?” When he turned back to Otabek, his rigid demeanor cracked under furrowed brows. He looked almost pitiful.

“You don’t remember? I told you last night.,” The words fizzled into steam at the end of his tongue. He looked completely sucker punched. JJ bit his lip. He must’ve really fucked up. Otabek swallowed and avoided JJ’s pleading eyes.

“I kicked him out.”

“Oh.”

The picture was starting to get some clarity, but the details were lost in a whiskey filter. He remembered stories of alcohol-fueled fights. He thinks he remembers alcohol-fueled trysts. JJ wanted to ask again, and really listen this time, but he probably lost the opportunity. The fact that Otabek asked him to pack his bags said plenty, and his current silence spoke even louder.

“Well,” JJ sat up slowly. “You said Yuri was at a hotel right?” JJ hoped that was the case, and not just his mind filling in the blanks. “I can bring him stuff? It looks like, uh, he left in a hurry.” JJ scanned the room, covered in a thick layer of Yuri’s personality. Anyone who knew him would think he still lived here. JJ wondered if Otabek thought that too.

Maybe it’s why he didn’t clean it yet.

“You can say that.” Now it was Otabek watching the ceiling fans lazy circles. “Yeah. He’d probably like some of his clothes. If he hasn’t replaced his entire wardrobe already.” Otabek snorted with a dash of nihilistic malice that JJ had no idea he was capable of. He avoided JJ’s eye contact as he picked up Yuri’s things with fastidious attention as if they were crime scene evidence. JJ couldn't watch, so he left to shower.

In a mere hour, Otabek managed to fold up every part of Yuri in his life into a cardboard box. JJ didn’t want to touch it, he felt like he’d disturb the universe. But he was cleaned, packed, with nowhere else to go but the rest of the world. Otabek held the box with outstretched arms. In a bizarre way, it felt like an offering. JJ tried to still his shaking hands as he took it. JJ definitely didn't jump when Otabek's hands slid over his.

“I’m sorry about Isabella. I mean that. I’ve known you both and,” Otabek sighed, and for a second JJ could see how tired he truly was underneath stone expressions. “It must be incredibly hard for you. Even if you can’t live here, know I’m here for you Jean.”

“Yeah,” JJ sniffled. He knew trying to fight tears was a battle he would lose, so he didn’t bother to fight. “Thanks, Beks. Same.” He had to take a moment to steady his breath, and frantically wipe under his eyes. “I’m..I’m sorry about Yuri.” JJ couldn’t look at Otabek, gaze glued to the folded, taped up box. It was already speckled with tear stains. “You can always talk to me. I promise I won’t get drunk again.” JJ chuckled half-heartedly, looking back up at Otabek expectantly. He looked hurt.

“Please,” Otabek laughed, and JJ wasn’t sure if it was just to match his mood or not. “Careful with drinking. Can I ask you one more favor?” Otabek’s fingers gripped his hands on the box. It forced his eyes to meet Otabeks.

“Can you be there for Yuri?” JJ swallowed, lost in all the earnest intensity of Otabek’s gaze. JJ couldn’t find the words yes or no. Or even know which one he wanted. All he could do was stare back, swallow, and nod.

* * *

Approaching this hotel bar gave JJ heart palpitations like he was approaching the ice.

He hadn’t felt anything like it in years.

His hands were shaking harder than he thought they ever have. His body wasn’t used to the thumping bassline of his heart in his throat like this anymore. JJ swallowed, and there was definitely still a lump.

It was just Yuri. He’d just insult him like he always did. It’d be fine. He caught the sound of acidic, strained laughter coming from the corner, and as soon as Yuri came into view JJ knew it wasn’t going to be fine.

If he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t have recognized this figure as Yuri Plisetsky.

JJ couldn’t recall exactly when Yuri had retired, but it wasn’t that long ago. Not nearly as long as the story his body told. He looked so small despite towering in gaudy stilettos. His frame wasn’t as full as it used to be and left him looking like a fragile shadow of his former self. He could see it in the makeup heavy tint underneath his eyes - he must be tired. JJ was reminded how Isabella’s concealer grew in layers as their relationship grew more and more strained.

Yuri’s bony fingers on the cleft of another man’s ass did nothing to ease the lump in his throat. JJ thought briefly of the box of Yuri’s things at the front desk. The responsibility was passed off to another, but Otabek’s plea echoed in the back of his head. He took a deep breath before diving in.

“Princess!” He yelled, keeping his camera smile plastered on his face as he sauntered over toward him like this was a hotel for Worlds rather than their last resort. He turned around at whiplash speed and JJ swore he saw mortal fear in his eyes for a split second.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” Yuri’s stance grew rigid, and JJ didn’t falter as he folded his scrawny arms tightly across his chest. The guy Yuri with barely seemed phased. JJ watched him out of the corner of his eye laughing to the bartender and pointing at them. The bartender only shook his head, like this was nothing new.

“You hear I finally hopped off Otabek’s dick, and thought you finally had a chance? I’m not gonna help you fuck my Ex.” And, well, ouch. JJ moved a hand to rub the back of his neck. The inches between them seemed more like a ravine that grew deeper with every word.

“Unless you’re here for me?” It knocked the fucking wind out of him, and Yuri ate up his expression like it was the finest artisanal chocolate. “You know Nekola bought me Versace first, and Victor at least got me a drink. Can you make it worth my time,” His smirk was predatory. “Leroy?”

JJ eyed Yuri up and down from his sticky teased-up bun, through floral print silk chiffon and tight denim all the way down to the gold Medusa head on the toe of his heel. He felt like she was taunting him. Like she turned him to stone, stuck eternally with unscrupulous eyes glued to Yuri. Even if he could find his jaw to speak, it was so hard to say yes to Yuri. JJ couldn’t tell if Yuri was attacking or defending, and it made it hard to approach him without fear of being bit.

“You wanna talk?” Yuri laughed at him. It could’ve gone worse.

“You’re not gonna get me a drink?” Yuri’s tone had a level of seriousness that was borderline desperate. It scared him, a little. Mostly because there was a reflection of himself in Yuri’s eyes that was incredibly hard to face.

“Yeah. I’ll get you a drink. But can we...” The lights in the bar were low, making it hard to count the creases on Yuri’s face or even see the color. “Can we get out of here?” Yuri looked too satisfied, with a smile that could cut diamonds. He rose on his toes, and JJ could almost feel the razor sharp teeth draw blood from his ear.

“You can do whatever you want with me.” He whispered in JJ’s ear, and he got chills that drained the blood from his face, they were straight to his dick. It left him in a limbo where nothing felt quite straight.

As he dragged Yuri out of the bar, hand in his own, he hadn’t decided if he was going to his room or not.

* * *

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” Yuri grumbled as he kicked off his heels into the grass and plopped himself on the curb next to JJ.

Yuri bitched and moaned the entire walk to the park, and JJ didn’t mind. It reminded him of the little spitfire kid he was missing more and more every minute. It reminded him of banter during warm-up skates, or tipsy barbs bubbling up from gala champagne. As he dusted off the memories. he couldn’t help but be caught by surprise when Yuri fished out a crumpled box of cigarettes from his back pocket. JJ immediately coughed as the air turned thick and ashy. His throat burned, and he wanted to tell Yuri it was no way to treat his body, he was an athle-

JJ’s mouth clamped shut. He let the burning in his lungs be a reminder that things were different now. Yuri seemed to put as much dedication into his body as he used to, purely in debauchery.

JJ handed him a beer, shielding his eyes as the setting sun reflected off the can in burning shades of orange.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked as he popped the tab of his own can. He sipped the foam off the top and the hops bouncing on his tongue felt a lot like relief, even as Yuri snorted at him.

“Did you really not see Otabek?” Yuri murmured around the cigarette balancing on the bottom of his lip.

“I’m asking you, Princess. Not to be rude, but you kind of look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk,” Yuri sounded bored, and JJ frowned. If Yuri wasn’t going to put up a fight, it took all the fun out of their routine. JJ took a moment to study his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was just the darkness of the setting sun, but they looked incredibly dull.

“I know,” JJ admitted. It was cathartic in a way he couldn’t find at the end of a six-pack. “I barely remember getting on a flight here, but I know I couldn’t stay. Not where I was.” JJ watched Yuri exhale a wispy cloud of smoke, keeping his eyes fixed on the melting colors in the sky. JJ wasn’t sure if he was even listening.

“Otabek let me stay.” It was the first time their eyes met, but Yuri whipped away the moment JJ’s face contorted to show any emotion. “He dumped me long before he finally kicked me out.” Yuri put out the cigarette on the curb and opened his beer to sip the foam off just like JJ did. “But Gramps died a while back. I didn’t really have anywhere to go. He felt bad for me, probably. I’m clearly thriving in retirement.” Yuri’s laugh sounded sharp enough to hurt himself on.

“How long have you been at the hotel?”

“About a month.” Yuri looked unimpressed at JJ’s surprise. “He caught me in bed with Emil.” JJ didn’t miss Yuri running a finger over the gold plated metal on his shoes as he spoke. “He knew I was fucking around, but he was still pissed.” Yuri paused for a gulp of beer. “I mean, no shit. So I left that night and didn’t look back.”

“You’re not sad?” JJ could feel his brows furrow deeply into creases that were becoming permanent features on his face. He only hoped it didn’t read as pity. Even if this Yuri was foreign to him, JJ was sure he would hate to be thought of like that.

Pitiful.

“Why would I be sad? This is my fucking fault.” Yuri crushed his empty beer can and immediately grabbed another. “What about you?” JJ sputtered in response. He wasn’t expecting that. “You’re probably sad, it’s not like you sabotaged your relationship.”

JJ hummed, grabbing a sweating beer from the plastic confines. “Not on purpose.” was the best he could come up with. He left his thumb on the tab. He felt like the scored aluminum in the moment. Something so easily bent and torn with a little pressure. “She wasn’t happy. That’s all that really mattered.” JJ watched Yuri flinch at the pop of his can. “It was my idea.” He took a needy gulp. “I’m sure it’s for the best.” Yuri’s smile might have been more self-deprecating than anything, but at least JJ believed it.

“I’m glad someone else out there is fucking up as bad as I am. Even if it’s you.” The street lamps turned on with a halogen buzz. The soft white glow almost gave some color to his skin. Maybe it was the sensation of summer sweat cooling on the night air, maybe it was roughly 32 oz of liquid courage running through his blood.

“You never answered my question.” JJ saw it again. The flash of fear in Yuri’s eyes. He didn’t back down. “Were you sad? Are you sad?”

Yuri frowned, and reached for another cigarette. He dragged a chipped red nail over a hot pink lighter a few times before he could produce a flame. The color didn’t really seem to go with his outfit very well.

“Not as sad as Beka was for me. I’m fucking cold. Let’s get back to my fucking room.” Yuri plucked his shoes off the ground and shoved them into JJ’s chest in exchange for the last beer. Yuri trotted barefoot into the night in a fury of bravado and purpose. Watching him made him feel a little high, and he was powerless not to follow the siren song in Yuri’s steps.

* * *

JJ didn’t know what to expect when he stepped into Yuri’s hotel room. He hadn’t decided what he wanted either. Yuri fumbled for the room key in his pocket, constantly muttering under his breath the whole time. His jeans didn’t leave much room for belongings - and JJ had to wonder how many drinks down Yuri was before he got here.

Yuri opened the door with no ceremony, guided only by the orange glow of the bathroom light he left on. JJ followed cautiously, he was in unfamiliar territory. Even with his meticulous tiptoeing, he found himself stumbling on a shopping bag. As he assessed the damage, JJ couldn’t help but catch the shine of the metallic Gucci lettering, even in the dull light. He looked back up and noticed there were dozens of other bags like it, varying in size and brand. They were walled around his bed like he could fortress himself in designer, the garments in a treasure horde pile on his mussed sheets.

“That reminds me,” he murmured to himself, staring at Yuri’s shifting shadow along the lighted bathroom wall.

“Princess,” JJ called out, over the sound of the running water. Yuri poked his head out, barely. He was clad in a face mask and bun remade on his head that looked so tight it gave JJ a residual headache.

“I have some of your clothes. I dropped them off in coat check.” Yuri wrinkled his nose and promptly hid back into the bathroom out of JJ’s sight.

“Whatever. I probably can’t fit into that shit anyways,” JJ couldn’t help but frown, sitting next to a pile of tangled silk and velvet that had to have cost a small fortune. He wondered how many bank accounts funded Yuri’s spoils.

“Do you....” JJ was stuck between asking to slide his hands under Yuri’s hotel robe or if he should even be here.

“I’m fucking tired.” Yuri groaned, a little too loud for the hour of the night. “But I’ll let you stay if you help pay for the room. Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.”

JJ bit the inside of his lip. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew the right thing to do was get his own room. Or, fuck, fly back to Canada and tell his mama sorry, and just forget about this entire trip.

With a soft click the room flooded with darkness, the color sucked out of everything instantly. He tried not to be startled, as his sensations heightened, as he felt the mattress shift with Yuri worming himself under the comforter.

It’d been a long time since JJ felt the weight and warmth of another. It made his heart clench.

“I don’t have sleep pants,” JJ said. Like it was the only reason he had left to walk out of this hotel room

“I’ve seen your dick more than I can fucking count in locker rooms. Who gives a shit. Just stay.” Yuri drawled, syllables sticky with sleep. It was all JJ needed.

He peeled his clothes off with liquor-slowed nerves and find himself beside Yuri. Yuri’s hair tickled him as he got closer, and JJ wondered how long it was when it wasn’t caged up on the top of his head. He wanted to play with the strands, and really let himself melt into Yuri’s warmth.

There was a glow from Yuri’s phone. And JJ really saw Yuri for the first time. Without makeup, or face masks, or under a curtain of bangs. It was only for a split second before Yuri snuffed out the glow with a clap of his hand.

“Good night, Yuri.” JJ turned on his side, keeping as much distance as he could on the cramped mattress. He bit the inside of his lip to keep from sighing and screwed his eyes shut. As much as he wanted to indulge in Yuri, dull the senses of his own sadness, he had to resist. 

Yuri never answered his question, and seeing him now without makeup and jewels to distract his eye he didn't need to. JJ could sympathize. He understood without having to hear the words. In silence he knew Yuri was truly miserable to his core.

That’s exactly why he couldn’t be just another guy that fucking hurt him.


	2. The Ghosts of You and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yikes it's been a minute huh.
> 
> I'm sorry I said I'd be on a schedule and just totally blew it :(

JJ had been awake for god knows how long. The sun streaming in through hotel blinds felt more like a brand on his skin. No matter how tight he squeezed his eyelids to resist the day, he couldn’t drift back asleep. His eyes were screwed hard enough to see red, and his jaw hurt from how hard he was gnashing his teeth. No matter how he tried to soothe himself, his whole body was a tightly wound coil compressed under the weight of the dawn and the curve of Yuri’s back.

JJ’s stomach churned, he blamed last night’s beer. He grasped for his phone in a lazy stretch, but his arm felt twice as heavy with the weight of sleeplessness. He wound up slapping it to the ground and bit back a hiss at the clamor. When he didn’t hear the expected grumbles from Yuri, he padded over to it on the balls of his feet. When he turned back to Yuri’s sleeping form though, he realized that such hospitality wasn’t necessary.

Yuri looked like he was fucking dead.

JJ bit the inside of his lip, as he waffled as to how rational it was to check his pulse. His eyes darted across Yuri’s face to his chest to just about any part of him that could move. His lids were strained from his frantic scanning and rolled closed for just a second. JJ thinks he saw Yuri twitch. Maybe he was sleep deprived.

He checked the time on his phone, and the glaring white 9:12 AM convinced him he was overreacting, and his body protested that a trip to the bathroom was significantly more pressing. It sounded like paradise at the moment, a locked door would create a safe haven from the purgatory of the hotel bed. JJ wasn’t sure he was even supposed to still be here. He remembered what Yuri said, but he couldn’t convince himself that he meant it.

Even if the air in the bathroom was easier to breathe, it didn’t give him any clarity. He checked his phone on the toilet, and he found any notification to knot his stomach up all over again. He hadn’t posted on Twitter for so long he was getting in case you missed it messages from people he never imagined becoming distant from. Social media sucked all his air away, JJ hoped shower steam to clear him up again. He found it hard to find a comfortable temperature of the shower. He wanted something scalding, like he could burn away his unease. The pain satisfied him for a moment, before it slowly cooled into something more tepid, and significantly less satisfying. Nonetheless, he stayed under the spray so long his skin grew pruney. The sensation of his touch made his skin crawl, but his hands creeped down his body and his fingers slithered around his cock. The act was mechanical, more for the sake of doing for pleasure. He wondered why even bother, as he spilled into his hand without any fanfare. His orgasm felt an awful lot like the lukewarm water running down his back.

JJ found his reflection, barely recognizable in the fogged up mirror. He really looked like shit. He knew, deeply, it wasn’t anything cosmetic. It was something ugly inside of him that he didn’t dare acknowledge. Rather he used Yuri’s tweezers to pluck at every stray hair and poke at every clogged pore he never noticed until he was under the low light above the mirror. A bulb was out, and he wondered why Yuri didn’t go to the front desk about it. His entire face was sore and picked red, and the dull pain was a good distraction from reality.

It was almost 11 when JJ had exhausted anything that could’ve been done in the bathroom and found himself holding his breath as he stepped back into Yuri’s room. He hadn’t moved since JJ left, and the idea of checking his pulse seemed more and more like a good idea. JJ made sure he kept his panic out of his footsteps.

“Hey, Princess.” He whispered in a cool voice, hand on Yuri’s back. “It’s late.” _Don’t you have anything you have to do_? It was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed the thought. Neither of them had a damn thing to do, and sleeping the day away was starting to seem more appealing with each passing moment. Yuri shifted just a touch, and JJ could breathe again.

“Whatimezit,” Yuri slurred face still mashed in the pillow.

“A little after eleven,” JJ said as he stared at his hand. He should probably move it, but he was worried Yuri might die again.

“Oh, fuck me.” Yuri muttered, syllables becoming more formed and solid. He shrugged JJ off of him as he stomped over to his hoard of clothes, throwing garments in a flurry.

“You need to go,” Yuri commanded as he shimmied into some embroidered chiffon number that was like tissue paper on his skin. JJ didn’t notice until now that he was wearing panties. “I have a date at noon, you can’t be here.”

“Uh,” JJ felt glued to the bed as Yuri scrambled around the room, haphazardly throwing clothes in his closet, and plucking up empty beer cans or any other kind of trash.

“Look, I don’t really care where you go or whatever. You just need to fuck off.” Yuri glared as he plucked some garish leggings off the floor. He glared at them too, as if his dagger eyes could make them cleaner. He yanked them on over his hips in a single strained motion, shoving in the corners of his blouse. It left Yuri looking like a poorly wrapped present.

“God I haven’t even started my face.” Yuri murmured as he bunched up his hair and fussed with his things in the bathroom.

“Can I borrow a shirt?” It was a stupid question. Yuri was smaller than ever, while JJ’s frame stayed relatively the same.

“Fine. But after that, you’re gone. I have something in the closet, you’ll know what’s not mine. Just grab it and leave.” JJ winced but shuffled to the closest to silently do what he was told. He dug through Yuri’s twisted pile of silk and satin until he found something that felt far too threadbare and plain, something that didn’t belong in Yuri’s wardrobe for any stretch.

JJ threw it on, examining himself in the mirror for a brief moment before it hit him. This was, undeniably, Otabek’s shirt. It made something churn in his stomach that he barely had time to focus on before the sharp ring of Yuri’s rattled him back to reality.

“Hi, baby.” Yuri cooed into the phone, in a tone that suggested perfect relaxation. A far cry from his frantically half-done makeup. “I’m running a little late. Yeah. I know. I won’t be long promise. You can wait for me, can’t you? You’re so cruel.” Yuri’s kept his voice playful, ever the ingenue, but JJ saw him bite his lip for a fraction. “Of course. I’ll see you soon, Daddy.” JJ choked on air, and he knew Yuri would tear him apart if he didn’t leave fast. He ignored the fresh glare from Yuri as went to close the closet. In a split second decision, he tossed his old shirt into the pile before he shuffled out of the hotel room.

It was foolish, but he hoped that maybe leaving something there would bring him back to Yuri.

* * *

JJ never felt more foreign than he did in the busy streets of Almaty. It’s not like this was even his first trip to the city, but then he’d been Otabek’s tourist. Without a guide, he felt painfully aimless and admittedly lost. Even the places he had a clear memory of seemed so strange to him in this moment. The idea of catching a cab to the airport was seeming more and more like a reality, and the reality felt a lot like defeat. There wasn’t even a bench for him to sit and really quantify what his next step was. He stopped in his tracks, to let out a shoulder slumping sigh.

He looked down to his shirt, and the DJ Dark Horse logo stared back at him. He could hear Otabek’s voice in the back of his head, as if from the mouthless face of the abstract horse.

_“Know I’m here for you Jean”_

His fingers dialed his number rapid fire from memory.

“Hey, Beks.” JJ ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “You busy?”

* * *

Even though Otabek told him it was okay, JJ found himself staring down Medeu with his lip between his teeth. JJ made a good habit of avoiding every single ice rink whenever possible. He kept himself busy in a myriad of other ways. He kept up with charity work. He lied to sports blogs about how retirement treated him. He destroyed his marriage.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

But Otabek was waiting, taking time out of his work day for him. The least he could do is not be a shitty friend. JJ inhaled, ran a hand through his hair, and started his war march to the rink. Apprehension rang in every step, but he forced himself forward. He never thought it’d be Otabek’s laughter that stopped him dead in his tracks.

A young girl in her teens had landed (a very clean) double lutz. She squealed immediately after landing it and ran up to Otabek for a flying high five. JJ really missed giving kids high fives.

He wants to be surprised that coaching so going so well for Otabek - but he’s not, if he stopped to think about it. Otabek skated with so many coaches, in so many environments. He experienced a myriad of different hardships. He learned from many hands from Almaty to Colorado Springs. He has those all those hands to mold his students. It made sense.

Just like it made sense that coaching didn’t work for him. He loved skating, he was great with kids - turns out there was more to it to that. JJ was sure he could be the right coach to some kid somewhere but he couldn’t take the heartache of being the wrong one so often.

Much more often JJ found himself being the wrong one nowadays.

“Hey, JJ!” Otabek called out, waving his arm in the air. JJ did his best not to jump, or seem completely startled as he raised his arm in turn as he walked toward Otabek, force smile straining his jaw.

“Fantastic job today Alina. Tomorrow I’ll have my phone ready so we can show your parents.” Otabek bent down to meet her at eye level, smiling in ways that JJ, again, shouldn’t be surprised by. It was even more surprising when Otabek stood up and raised that smile to him. “Alina, this is Jean-Jacques Leroy.” Otabek’s smile turned sly as the girl looked up at him, starry-eyed. JJ waved to her, as she covered her mouth with her hands.

“She’s shy.” Otabek supplemented. JJ’s smile is suddenly a little less tight, and it doesn’t hurt his face so much. He bent down, in the same way that Otabek did.

“She takes after her coach, huh?” JJ’s eyes crinkled around the edges. “It’s nice to meet you, Alina. Your jump was amazing, you’re very talented.” Her hands only drop a fraction, but JJ could finally piece together that her expression is nothing but awe.

“Thank you!” She said too fast. “I’m a big fan. You were robbed in Beijing.” JJ laughed in earnest, since the first time he’s been in Almaty. He ruffles the young girl's hair.

“You’re a good kid. Can I get a selfie before we leave?” Alina gasps when JJ asks her, fumbling for her phone. JJ helps her steady the phone so the picture didn’t come out blurry. She stammered out a thank you before she turned heel and sprinted away. JJ sighed, and Otabek chuckled again, patting a hand on JJ’s shoulder.

“Nice to be in your element.” Otabek teased him. JJ groaned, slipping out from under Otabek to plop himself on a bench that looked out into the ice. Medeu was a beautiful rink, but the mountains around felt like they were caving in on him. There’s a pain in beauty, apparently. Isabella told him that.

“Barely. Just looking at the rink makes me wanna vomit, Beks. Cute kid though. She’s really good. You can tell you taught her that lutz.” JJ said, looking at Otabek towering over him like the mountains around him.

“You taught her the lutz, actually.” Otabek settled down next to JJ and met him at eye level. “She’s obsessed with you. We’ve watched so many videos of your programs. I’m more sick of you now than when I lived with you.”

“I still had a lot of times where I wasn’t a right fit. It’s a hard pill to swallow.” Otabek looked out into the ice, like something out there pained him. But there was nothing. JJ found himself looking more at Otabek’s tired eyes. “How is Yuri?”

JJ winced. He didn't even knew he did it. But he saw Otabek’s face fell for just a moment, and it told him everything. It only took a single blink, and he was stone-faced again.

“He’s....” JJ kept opening and closing his mouth. He looked like a blinking fish. “He changed a lot.” What was there to say? Could he really tell Otabek that Yuri propositioned him? The fact that JJ even _thought_ about it made him feel like a target under Otabek’s gaze.

“You can be honest with me, JJ.” Otabek said, poking him in the chest, right into his own logo that was over JJ’s heart.

Right. He didn’t think this though, huh.

“I don't think he’s doing great. I stayed with him last night. He was really drunk and I helped him back.” JJ knew exactly what it sounded like, and he could see Otabek’s eyes thin the slightest bit. “I think he had a date today.”

“A date.” Otabek laughed, like a lemon to a cut. He looked back out to the nothing on the ice as he raked a hand through his hair. JJ saw the same twitch in his frown that Otabek had after hitting the ice in an over rotated sal. And the same tired eyes he had after a long distance phone call home. Back then, JJ could help him angle his body to nail the jump, Or treat him to ice cream when he missed home. JJ wasn’t sure what he could do right now. JJ wasn’t sure if Otabek needed him to do anything. “Listen, I have another student coming in at the hour.” JJ moved to stand up, but Otabek clapped a hand on his shoulder pushing down.

“You’re gonna be okay. I know a lot is going on, but you have a good head on your shoulders. You’ll find what works for you soon. I’m sure of it.” It made JJ feel like one of Otabeks students. Not like a child, but like someone Otabek really believes in.

“Thanks, Beks. I’ll get out of your hair.” JJ smiled, and it almost feels genuine.

“It was nice seeing you, Jean. You’re welcome here anytime. I know Alina wouldn’t complain if you made an encore appearance.” JJ laughed, warm like the lights turning one by one around the rink.

“I glad you’re her coach. You’re really good at this.”

“Only with the right ones, Jean.” There was something JJ couldn’t translate from Otabek’s expression. Like there was a hidden meaning between his tightly closed lips. JJ wished he had asked before he slunk away.

* * *

JJ wondered if it’s soon enough to start heading back to the hotel, or if that was even a good idea. He left his shirt, he couldn’t even tell himself that he wasn’t thinking of going back. The idea of running into Yuri with another man though set something tepid and heavy in his stomach. He didn’t want to see it. Adding a face to Yuri’s self-destruction was too much for him.

So of course, it was the only thing he could think about. Men much too old for Yuri undoing him on his hotel bed. They’d settle themselves between thighs made for art to take, and take and take. JJ wondered if Yuri protested, or just hid his eyes under a scrawny forearm.

Fuck. He needed a drink.

JJ should be just as mad at alcohol as he was at men for Yuri. He should be mad at alcohol for himself. But all his thoughts were jagged, and he’d take anything to file them down to something that didn’t hurt so bad. JJ turned the corner to see his nightmare living and breathing before him, pushed up against sun dried brick. Some man in an expensive ill-fitting suit, who managed to make all 6-foot-something-insane Yuri look so small.

“Let me the fuck _go_.”

JJ noticed the hand on Yuri’s wrist and was sprinting before he even realized.

“Yuri!” He called out, once he was in arm's length of the other man. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. “You heard him. Let him go, or we’re going to have problems.” JJ hissed, with his nostrils flared. He dragged up words and faces he’s only used enough times to count on one hand. It always scared JJ, when he brought these things out, but the man was fairly nonplussed, he ignored JJ entirely to give his attention to Yuri.

“Your boyfriend here doesn’t know about your day job, babydoll? I should’ve known you were lying to me when you said you didn’t have one.” The man drawled. Yuri sneered, taking the moment to take a long step back from the guy. He looked a lot like the kitten JJ used to call him, puffed up and frightened.

“You heard him. Fuck off. You don’t want to make my boyfriend mad.” Yuri spits his words as he flexes his newly free wrist. He stared down the man and kept his arms tight to his body. JJ was caught somewhere sticky between the word boyfriend and the mottled plum shade blooming on Yuri’s wrist. He was caught off guard when the stranger shoved JJ out of the way, stomping out of the alley way into the burnt color of the setting sun.

“Fine by me. I don’t deal with boyfriends.” He shot them both a nasty look before taking a step closer to Yuri. JJ saw him visibly recoil. “Don’t come calling to me Yuri. Remember, _you_ did this.” The man spat in Yuri's face, and barreled down the street. JJ thought about chasing him down, let out some of air compressed adrenaline. It didn’t matter anymore, not when he heard Yuri’s shuddering breath. He wanted to wrap him up in a hug, wanted to yell at him for doing something so fucking dangerous. JJ wasn’t sure who was shaking more when he clapped a hand on Yuri’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He said in a whisper. Yuri shrugged him off with a snarl.

“I could’ve handled it!” Yuri screamed, hands wrapped around himself as he whole body quaked, stumbling back seasick. “This isn’t any of your goddamn business, Leroy. I don’t need you. I don’t...” Yuri was now pacing as fast as his knock knees allowed, in frantic little amoeba shapes. He ran a hand through the braids his hair was up in, tangling his fingers in the strands and yanking out all the ties and clips that kept it pristine. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands still. He either dragged them down his face in back mascara smears or rummaged through his pockets like there was an answer at the bottom.

JJ could only watch, face folded into a twist of hurt and sympathy blended so close together the emotions blurred. Yuri couldn’t stop shaking, and if JJ didn’t know him so better he’d think he was crying. It was hard to tell, with his face looking like a Jackson Pollock found inspiration in a Sephora. Yuri had fished out a lighter and cigarette at some point, frantically trying to light it.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK.” He rambled, running his finger over the wheel over and over again, desperate to produce a flame. It didn’t take him long to chuck it against a building wall and smash it pieces. JJ knew he felt a lot like the plastic shrapnel at the moment, and he wasn’t sure he even know how to put himself back together.

“I need another drink,” Yuri muttered, before stomping off toward the streets. Yuri slapped on sunglasses. JJ could’t tell if he didn’t want the world to see him, or if he didn’t want to see the world. He made it abundantly clear as he stretched a too confident leg into the street. JJ blessed his quick reflexes as he grabbed Yuri by the collar, dragging him into his chest. Yuri gasped a second offbeat as a car shot past them. JJ put both kept his arms crossed around Yuri’s chest. For once, He wasn’t afraid him lashing out anymore. For once, Yuri was silent.

“Let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” JJ spoke softly. He kept a hand on Yuri’s shoulder, and another around his waist. Yuri only hummed, as he let JJ lead him.

* * *

“You sure you don’t want anything, boss?”

It was the third time the bartender asked. It was Yuri’s third vodka double he sipped in silence. JJ shook his head.

“The water is fine. Thank you.” JJ said with a delicately polite tone, though he was growing tired of repeating himself. His patience wore thinner as the bartender scoffed at him.

“Ya know, it’d do you good if you’re going home with him. Takes the edge off it.” JJ looked down to Yuri, who was far too busy examining the bottom of his rocks glass to even register the shit the bartender was talking about him.

“I don’t want anything.” JJ said again, not bothering to try and keep the smile on his face. The bartender shrugged. He was just as pleased to chatter with the only other patron on the other side of the bar, which was more than fine for JJ. He put a hand on Yuri’s back, to test the waters, and Yuri slumped over warm on his side. JJ wanted to hiss at him to get up, give less gossip to the bartender. But Yuri had never seemed so comfortable in the time JJ had spent with him. He wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer to stay upright.

“Hey. Let’s go to bed.” JJ murmured, trying to pull some of Yuri’s hair aside. Yuri let out a soft strangled groan, and his head dipped forward before JJ caught him. He wouldn’t sigh, or curse or anything of that sort, but he had to bite his tongue as he scooped Yuri up into his arms.

JJ walked past the bar as fast as could juggling all of Yuri’s long limbs. He didn’t ask for his tab. JJ would much rather take the 20% gratuity for leaving his card than have Yuri under the bartender’s mocking eyes again. He had to fish Yuri’s room key out of his pocket. He was sincerely glad that Yuri remained knocked the fuck out. The last thing they both needed was him waking up with his hand in Yuri’s pants. After fumbling around the hotel, with Yuri, with his own goddamn feelings, he finally managed to slide into Yuri’s room and spill him on the bed.

Yuri almost looked peaceful, like this.

Yuri’s hair fanned around him, and it made him look so tragically beautiful. Made sure to get him under some blankets, as well as fetch him some Advil and water to put right on the nightstand. He was sure Yuri would feel like hell in the morning. He nudged the trash can as close to Yuri’s head as possible, just in case.

JJ found himself again without sleep clothes in Yuri’s room. Tonight he didn’t question staying. He stripped off Otabek’s shirt and climbed right into bed with Yuri. He found it easier to sleep, this time with the rhythmic sound of Yuri’s shallow breaths


End file.
